


Coming Home

by Healthyeyes



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Between Seasons/Series, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit comes later, Feel-good, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Healthyeyes/pseuds/Healthyeyes
Summary: Set between s2-3, when Ragnar learns Athelstan is still alive, and brings him back to Kattegat for the first time.
Relationships: Athelstan & Ragnar Lothbrok, Athelstan/Ragnar Lothbrok
Comments: 20
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

Athelstan had prayed for a sign for a full day and night, fasting. Here he had been, holed up in a locked room with scrolls and ancient relics of an empire now lost and fragmented. He felt like them in that way, he supposed, but it was more than that. It was the rolling hills of wheat and the smells of the rivers in the mornings that Athelstan cherished of England. But it wasn't people. It was without 

When he thought of the north, he felt the divine hand of love; Freya's or Mother Mary, he knew not, but he knew what it looked like. It looked like the hardened seas, with winds whipping through his dark hair. It was fishing, casting nets in the morning light. It was walking along the beach on a sunny day with sand between his toes, a figure following closely behind him. And then it was Gyda, Bjorn, Lagertha, smiling, his  _ family. _

The North had many faces, and all of them called to him, but none more than Ragnar. 

Ragnar came to him in his dreams, always alone, staring with those intense eyes that pierced his soul with knowing. That was all he would do; Just stare at Athelstan, waiting, watching. Athelstan had studied his face again and again, the shape of his beard, the vivid blue of his eyes. He knew the scars, but there were new ones, telling of their time apart. He had changed. 

But when Ragnar had grabbed his leg that day, pulling at the cloth of his plaincloth brown robe, Athelstan felt his heart jump into his throat, staring down at Ragnar from the donkey he rode. He knew there was no choice. There never had been. There had only been Ragnar, ever since that fateful day in the monastary.

"I will come home, to my family, of course." Athelstan said gently, and as he did, he saw the light in Ragnar eyes spark to life, a smile twitching at that hard line frown he held in front of their watchers. Ragnar couldn't help himself, though. Athelstan was coming home.

Too many days, Ragnar had spent alone, walking the forest to hunt or going out to fish; He insisted on doing so even though he was an Earl now. It was meditative, and to be truthful, he used the time to pray to Athelstan God's to deliver him home more than he did to hunt or fish.

And the nights were no better. Ragnar barely slept at the best of times, always sporting dark circles beneath his eyes, either because of duty, children, or his own thoughts. At the worst of times, nightmares plagued him so much that he slept apart from Aslaug for fear of harming her in a sleeping state of terror. 

And the nightmares were always of the unknown. Would he be king? Would he travel further West? Looming towers of abandoned buildings, crumbling to sand around him. Crowns melting, and burning the bodies of screaming hoards below. And Athelstan. Beaten. Depraved. Murdered. Those were the nights that Ragnar would awake with sickness, lurching.

Ragnar let his hand slip from Athelstan's leg to take his Donkey's reins in hand, leading him to the camp, peering into the woods over his shoulder, quiet and watchful. Athelstan was coming home, and it would not be under a black cloth.


	2. Chapter 2

The ship was freezing. Athelstan had forgotten how cold it got out at sea, and his teeth chattered and his brown hair was soaked through. He had prepared well, but the furs around his neck and shoulders weren't enough on his small frame in the dark of night in the middle of a lonely sea. The wind whipped the canvas sail, stretching it northward, towards home, but achingly also through each of them, men shivering in the darkness. The night ate away at them, and the wet sea spray kept each of them perfectly miserable. 

As Athelstan pulled his cloak further around him, sitting on the edge of the boat and looking out into the dark sea, black and reflecting dark clouds above that rained gently on them. A few of the men were still awake, staring quietly out into the black seas, but most of them were asleep, their snores echoing like a choir.

"You are still awake, priest." 

The voice in his ear made him jump slightly. Ragnar slipped onto the edge of the ship beside Athelstan, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him, as if they hadn't lost a single day between them. To Athelstan however, it felt almost overwhelming, making him dizzy with happiness being near him again. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to see one another at the camp, Ragnar always running about, busy as ever. Seeing him now, so close, Athelstan couldn't help but stare at him, studying him as Ragnar made himself comfortable beside him. 

"Yes. The sea is singing." Athelstan said quietly, giving Ragnar a small smirk. 

"Hmm." Ragnar said, seeming to consider it. "Bullshit."

"Yes." Athelstan laughed. Ragnar hit him in the stomach, and Athelstan gave a small 'oof', but continued with a low chuckle. 

"We move so slowly. Are you not excited to see Kattegat? It has grown." Ragnar said, speaking unnervingly close to Athelstans ear, leaning into him. It sent goosebumps down his neck, the hair on his arms standing on end. 

"Yes. I have dreamed of this day for years." Athelstan said, daring to look at Ragnar. Ragnar's piercing blue eyes met Athelstans, and a smile crossed their faces just barely. 

"Come. Dream of it more. You must sleep. Let us lie and be warm." Ragnar said, turning on heel and stepping over a couple of sleeping men to a corner of the boat that had just enough room for two to huddle inwards, away from the cold sea. He looked up at Athelstan, patting the clear area beside him where Ragnar lay.

Athelstan hesitated only a moment before joining Ragnar. He'd made it onto the boat, he'd left England--there was truly no going back now. He'd had his chance, and his choice had been made. Ragnar was his choice, and would always be his choice. 

Athelstan lowered himself into the small area, and he was enveloped by Ragnar's heavy arm and fur cloak, the stars overhead disappearing from his vision. Ragnar pulled him inwards, unashamed, protective of the man in his embrace, smelling the oils in his hair as his hand naturally found Athelstan's neck. Ragnar's fingers moved up his neck and into his hair, curling locks of the brown mop around his fingers. Closing his eyes as his forehead touched Athelstans, both of them hidden in the darkness beneath his cloak, they could pretend a moment that they were truly alone.

"I missed you, Athelstan." Ragnar whispered.

"I missed you, Ragnar." Athelstan replied in the darkness, his heart hammering at the contact. Athelstan would have liked to study Ragnar's face, but the darkness beneath the cloak only encouraged Athelstan to close his eyes, and breathe in the moment in quiet peace as they drifted to sleep in one another's arms for the first time in years.


	3. Chapter 3

Athelstan skipped a rock over the calm, dark waters of Kattegat. It was so late now, it was almost early, the stirrings of the town coming to life. He had snuck out of Ragnar's hall, quite a change from the tiny hut they had lived in together with Gyda, Lagertha, and Bjorn. The hall was huge, towering trees piled and carved into separate rooms that afforded some privacy, a luxury he'd come to appreciate of Europe but was hard to find here in Kattegat. It was partly the reason why Athelstan liked to awake so early--it gave him the space for quiet reflection without the hustle and bustle of Ragnar's court.

"Have you gotten any better at that?"

Athelstan turned to see Ragnar standing not far off in the sand of the beach. His blonde hair was tied in braids, and he wore a dyed linen shirt that was loose, his fur cloak draped lazily over one shoulder to shield against the cool wind that rolled off the mountains. He was handsome, but he looked tired, dark circles beneath his eyes, and it made him worry. 

Ragnar studied Athelstan as he approached, looking him up and down with hungry eyes. Athelstan had taken some of his clothes--a light linen shirt with a drawstring tie, and pants made from leather, and boots with fox fur trim that Ragnar had hunted himself. It gave Ragnar a sense of ownership over him, and let others know that Athelstan was  _ his. _

Athelstan raised an eyebrow, picked up another rock, and skipped it three times before it sank below the surface of the calm water. 

"Hmm. I think not." Ragnar laughed. 

"Well, have you?" Athelstan accused. Ragnar took the challenge, and leaned down to grab a rock. He skipped it across the surface with a practiced hand, it jumping four times before sinking. 

"Better than you." Ragnar said with a shrug. Athelstan chuckled before a quiet silence took over between them, comfortable and easy as they looked out at the waters, the sky starting to lighten just slightly. 

"What are you doing up so early?" Athelstan asked at last. 

"I was thinking of going fishing. Would you care to join me?" Ragnar asked. Athelstan was sure that was not the only thing on Ragnar's mind, but he did not press.

"I would be happy to. I will tell you the story of Jonah and the Whale." Athelstan said with a smile. Ragnar got the same look he always did when Athelstan was to share a new story with him, like a child filled with wonder. 

They walked to the dock side by side, shoulders brushing against one another. It was the same as always; They danced around one another with a familiarity that would scare an on-looker. They were in synch, readying the small dingy boat for their fishing trip as they pushed off from the dock in the early morning light.

They were quiet as Ragnar took over the rowing. Athelstan appreciated the view, both around him and in front of him, and he wasn't afraid to see Ragnar catching his glances every now and again. It made his heart leap into his throat as he would glance at Ragnar's shoulders, muscles moving beneath his shirt with ease. 

"This grove has good bass." Ragnar said as they came under a tree along the shore. Ragnar took his carved trident in hand, feeling the weight of it, but not particularly readying himself to actually find a target. Instead, he stepped over the seat of the small boat that separated him and Athelstan, and took a seat beside him. 

"I don't really want to fish." Ragnar said, looking pointedly at Athelstan. 

"That's a relief. You know I've never been a good spearman." Athelstan said, looking over at Ragnar. In a moment, Ragnar's lips were on Athelstans, kissing him passionately. 

It was everything that Athelstan had dreamed of and remembered. He tasted like the sea, salty, rough, kissing with passion that took his breath away. And in return, Ragnar felt his heart crumbling in Athelstan's arms as they wrapped around him. 

Athelstan breathed in Ragnar's kisses, fierce and hungry, as if he was going to disappear any moment. His hand, calloused and scarred, gripped at Athelstan's jaw, then his neck, then his hair, moving with swift attention. He pulled at Athelstan's curly brown locks, and Athelstan's breath hitched. 

Ragnar felt it deep in his abdomen when Athelstan's voice whispered his name against his lips, the name sweet coming from him. Athelstan's hands found Ragnar's neck, brushing against exposed skin, his fingers light as he willed Ragnar closer to him, as impossible as it was. 

It was Ragnar who pulled away first, one hand against the back of Athelstan's neck, the other resting against his cheek as he studied Athelstan's face. Athelstan stayed close, resting his forehead against Ragnar's, their noses touching as they breathed heavily, breathless from their kisses.

"I prayed to come home. To come back to you." Athelstan whispered. 

"Who did you pray to?" Ragnar asked with a knowing smirk. 

"Odin. Jesus. Freya. Thor. Mother Mary. Whomever would listen." Athelstan admitted, closing his eyes, feeling the intricate braids tied close to Ragnar's neck. Ragnar pressed a warm kiss to his cheek, then stood in the small boat, looking out at the water. 

"It seems your prayers were answered either which way, then." Ragnar said, his back to Athelstan, staring down into the shallow water. Athelstan peered over the edge of the boat and saw a few fish swimming beneath them, and he could feel the tension radiating off Ragnar as he waited patiently. 

"And what of your prayers, Ragnar? Have they been answered?" Athelstan asked, head tilting to the side as he looked up at the man. 

Suddenly Ragnar lunged, the spear in his hand breaking the calm surface of the water. Athelstan watched as he pulled it back, and at the end of it, a flopping fish the length of his forearm, speared. Breakfast. He watched Ragnar's concentrated expression turn to a smile, looking from the fish, to him. 

"They have always been answered."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NSFW ahead**

The party continued late into the evening. It had been weeks since they'd been home, and one of the raiders had just had a son. Everyone, of course, had used it as an excuse to throw a party at the inset of winter. They all needed a laugh this time of year when it was beginning to get dark and cold. Ragnar had permitted them use of his hall, of course. He had taken Aslaug's disapproving glare in exchange for a night of fun. 

Ragnar observed from his seat the people, in small pockets, laughing, drinking, eating. Servants weaved between the crowds, arms laiden with offerings of wine, beer and food. Musicians were playing beside the roaring central fire, with young couples twirling on their feet to the sounds of their rhythm. 

"Do you wish to dance? Is a King permitted to dance?" 

Ragnar was not often surprised, but he admitted this time he had not heard Athelstan approaching his chair from behind, luring quietly in it's shadow with a mostly-drank cup of wine in hand. Ragnar looked over his shoulder at him as he leaned on his chair, his free hand fixing Ragnar's collar. 

"A king is permitted to do as he pleases." Ragnar replied before he sunk back into his chair, running his fingers through the soft furs draped over it, Athelstan's hand slipping away. Ragnar glanced up and reached out to Athelstan's hand, pulling it back down to his shoulder as he stared up at him with piercing blue eyes. "I do not wish to dance, though."

"You have it all now, Ragnar. Sons, land, fame, riches, a beautiful wife...why did you wish for  _ me." _ Athelstan said. "Why would you wish me to return, and then you avoid me for weeks?"

Ragnar let a small smile pull at the corners of his mouth as he looked out around the room. He could hear the hurt in Athelstan's voice, and it was true. He had avoided him. He took a moment before rising to his feet and giving Athelstan a glance and a small motion of his head to follow, before moving into the crowds. 

Ragnar could feel him following, both of them weaving through the crowded hall, heading towards the back entranceway. Having Athelstan's eyes on him made him clench his fists, tense from anticipation. 

Athelstan, slightly confused, moved through the crowd easily. The last few years at King Ecbert's court, he had learnt to stay mostly invisible, much to his liking. He spent days in the tower, filing and copying ancient Roman texts, with meals delivered to his door, the King his only visitor other than the maid. So now, blending into the crowded party, Athelstan felt a sense of familiar ease. No one really noticed him as he kept his head down, pointed towards the cup in his hand, but his eyes on Ragnar's back.

Ragnar slipped out the back door, through the storage room, and into the cold evening of Kattegat. He pulled his cloak around himself and waited in the shadows until he heard the door open, and confirmed it was Athelstan. 

"Come." Ragnar said, motioning again for Athelstan to follow him. 

"Where are we going?" Athelstan whispered in the evening, catching up with him and walking in-step.

"To see the reason why I avoided you so much for the last few weeks." Ragnar said, a sing-song quality to his voice that Athelstan knew. It was the voice Ragnar used when he was about to prove someone wrong.

"Ohh, what have you done now?" Athelstan moaned as they weaved through the town's narrow paths. Ragnar chuckled, but led them on in silence. 

It was a few more minutes until they reached the edge of town, the trees thickening into forests beyond there, and only a few houses had been erected, all newer than the ones in the center of town. Ragnar walked towards the nearest one, with a large fenced-in field just behind it, enough to home the sheep who were already penned in, and Athelstan followed dutiously. 

"Aslaug and I have come to...an agreement," Ragnar said, as they finally stepped onto the wooden floor of the cabin. It was beautifully made, with carvings of animals inlaid into the pillars that supported the roof. "And so this, is for you."

Ragnar bowed his head a moment to remove a key from around his neck, holding it out to Athelstan. 

Athelstan stopped a few steps away, looking from Ragnar, to the house in front of him. It wasn't big or grand, but it was dedicated. He could tell that a loving hand had gone into the work on it.

And as he reached for the key, he finally saw Ragnar's hands. They were covered in recent scratches and scrapes, a workers hands, with the palms wrapped in linen.

"Ragnar…"

"Take it. Just take it." Ragnar said, tossing it at him out of impatience. Athelstan laughed and caught the key, beaming at Ragnar. 

"Are you sure?" Athelstan asked. 

"This place is for us. No one else. I have been sure since the first time I saw you, and the God's whispered in my ear to keep you." Ragnar said quite seriously. Athelstan had never known of that, that he had heard the God's at their meeting. It made Athelstan reach out to him, and take his face in his hands, fingers brushing against his bearded face. 

"I love you, Ragnar Lothbrok."

Ragnar leaned down and pressed his lips to his, with a certain amount of gentleness that Athelstan knew he saved for special occasions. It was sweet, wish soft lips pressed eagerly against one another, Ragnar' bandaged hands finding the line of Athelstan's jaw.

"Will you invite me in, then?" Ragnar asked between kisses. Athelstan chuckled in his throat before kissing Ragnar once more. He turned to the door and pushed it open, and inside a fire was already roaring in a stone hearth in the centre of the room, illuminating the one-roomed home. 

It was simple, with wooden floors raised off the cold ground, their steps echoing in the small space. A bed stuffed with straw had been pushed against the far wall, partially hidden by a length of grey linen that hung from the wooden rafter. A few strings of herbs hung as well, leaving the scent of lavender throughout the house as Athelstan took the first few steps in. 

"You have to look after the sheep in the yard, by the way." Ragnar said, taking off his cloak. Athelstan chuckled. 

"It is good I like sheep, then." Athelstan said, letting his hands run over a wooden pillar, the wood smooth to the touch. He heard Ragnar's footsteps approach from behind, and only jumped slightly at his touch. 

His hands squeezed his shoulders, and Athelstan looked over his shoulder at him before untying the leather and silver buckle that held it in place. Ragnar slipped off his cloak, and tossed it onto the table near the fire before his hands returned to Athelstan. 

Ragnar was warm blooded, that Athelstan had always known, but he had forgotten the heat that rolled off him. Standing with his chest pressed against Athelstan's back as his arms waved around his waist, Athelstan felt warmed by his presence. Athelstan sighed as Ragnar laid a kiss on the bare skin of his neck just below his ear. 

"Are you cold?" Ragnar asked, his voice humming against his skin. 

"No." Athelstan breathed. 

"I love you, Athelstan." Ragnar said quietly in his ear. His hand left Athelstan's waist and moved to his arm, lacing his fingers in with Athelstan's as he kissed his neck. 

Athelstan's breathing hitched as Ragnar bit lightly at the skin at the crook of his neck, and his hips moved against Ragnar's instinctively, grabbing at his doublet in fistfulls. Ragnar hummed against his skin and his lips found Athelstan's again, swallowing up his lusty breaths. 

Athelstan's hands moved down Ragnars back as Ragnar pushed him, and Athelstan let him guide him. He felt the kitchen table scoop him up, and Ragnar moved in between his open legs, kissing him fiercely. Both of them were breathing heavily between kisses, hands running over one another until Ragnar pushed Athelstan's shirt up. 

Athelstan lifted his arms and let Ragnar throw the shirt to the floor. Athelstan reached back to Ragnar and did the same to him, pushing his shirt off and throwing it in a pile with his. Once off, Ragnar looked at Athelstan, a step back, hunger in his eyes. Athelstan felt like he was being hunted, like he was a prize piece for Ragnar. He reveled in it. Athelstan pushed himself off the table, and took Ragnar's hand, pulling him to the bed in the corner of the room. 

Athelstan pushed Ragnar down onto the bed, and Ragnar was quiet, watching him with anticipation, blue eyes staring up at him. Athelstan admired him a moment, his broad shoulders and defined chest, tattooed in black patterns. He had new scars too that Athelstan reached out to, tracing with his fingers lightly. Ragnar's hands were gentle now, finding his waist and pulling at the strings of his breeches. 

Athelstan grabbed his hand though and pushed it away gently. Instead, Athelstan reached out to Ragnar and undid his pants, pushing them off eagerly and tossing them with the rest of the clothing. Ragnar looked at Athelstan, eyes following him as he kneeled between Ragnar's legs, hands massaging up his legs. Ragnar's bandaged hands cupped Athelstan's face and kissed him deeply. 

Athelstan enjoyed it for a moment before his hands found Ragnar's hard length, warm and throbbing. Ragnar's breath hitched during the kiss, which turned into a groan of satisfaction at his touch. Separating from him and letting his kisses trail from his neck, down his shoulder and chest, Ragnar moved his wrist, feeling him until he took him in his mouth. 

As he did, Ragnar sighed and leaned back, one hand on the bed to support him and the other in Athelstan's hair as Athelstan's lips moved over his cock in a repetitive motion. Athelstan breathed through his nose as he pleasured Ragnar, reveling in the sensation of Ragnar's hands pulling at his hair as he did. He had missed this, just the two of them, finally alone at long last. Athelstan had missed the warmth of him; he'd been with others, during his stay at King Ecbert's court, but it had never filled the void that Ragnar had left in his heart.

"Athelstan…" Ragnar mumbled as Athelstan picked up the pace, one hand gently squeezing his balls as he sucked Ragnar. He heard Ragnar mumble his name again, and Athelstan looked up at him just as Ragnar pulled back on his hair, his length slipping out of his mouth. Athelstan's neck was exposed to Ragnar as he breathed heavily, his chest heaving as he stared at Ragnar with hungry eyes, Ragnar's hand still entangled in his hair. 

Ragnar pulled at Athelstan, hands slipping from his hair to his waist to push his pants off. Athelstan's lips found Ragnar's again as he kicked the pants off, Ragnar pulling Athelstan down to the bed in one swift motion. He was on top of Athelstan in a moment, Athelstan's back pressed into the bed and Ragnar's hands gripping his length. 

Ragnar worked him as he kissed him, Athelstan's hips moving with his hand as he moaned into his lips. He was lost in Ragnar's touch, and Athelstan was sure he was going to come faster than he'd like no thanks to Ragnar's rough hands moving over him. Ragnar positioned himself between Athelstan's legs, breaking their kiss to reach over to the small table that was beside the bed, a lit candle and a small ceramic bottle sitting on top. 

Athelstan let himself catch his breath for the moment Ragnar's hands left him, watching him tilt some of the oil in the bottle into his hands as he hovered over him. Athelstan stared up at him, reaching out to him and letting his fingers brush through his beard in a loving fashion. 

Ragnar's fingers, oiled, found his ass, deft fingers taking his breath away. Athelstan moaned his name as he found Ragnar's cock, working him at the same pace that Ragnar stretched him. Ragnar sighed, rolling his head back, staring up at the ceiling as he enjoyed the pleasure radiating out from his body from Athelstan's hands, his own teasing Athelstan and making him moan his name into the night. 

"Ragnar...Ragnar I can't take it any more…" Athelstan breathed, squirming beneath him. It was all the invitation he needed to move his hands away and replace them with his cock, pressing against his ass. It made Athelstan moan, hooking his legs over Ragnar's waist, nodding to him as his fingers gripped his thighs.

Ragnar pushed his cock deep into Athelstan, stifling his voice with a kiss. He stayed like that for a moment with him, unmoving, kissing him deeply, until Athelstan breathed his name against his lips. Ragnar began to move his hips, and the sound of Athelstan's voice sent shivers down his spine. 

Ragnar broke away from him enough that he could look down at him as he thrust into him. He looked blissed out, his pale face red with a blush, sweat dripping down his brow, his brown curls sprawled out around him on the pillow. His hands worked on himself, a sight that made Ragnar groan in pleasure as he felt Athelstan tighten around him. 

As Ragnar's hand found his cock, Athelstan sighed, letting him take over completely. Never had he surrendered so fully before to anyone but Ragnar and God himself. Athelstan even whispered both of their names in the same breath as Ragnar gripped him, fucking him at the same time. 

"Are you going to come, priest?" Ragnar sneered, his breath bated, feeling Athelstan throb in his hand. 

"Ragnar, I can't…I'm…" He said just as he spilled his seed all over Ragnar's hand. Ragnar rode him through his orgasm, coming just moments after him in Athelstan's tight ass. 

They stayed there a moment, locked together, riding out wave after wave of pleasure that overcame them both. Athelstan swore he could see stars in his vision as Ragnar leaned down and kissed him as he removed his hand from his spent cock. Ragnar's lips were rough, but loving as he stole a last kiss from Athelstan as he rolled off of him. 

He groaned as he lied down beside Athelstan on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and wiping his hand on the linens beneath them. They were quiet, the light from the candles flickering and creating shadows on the ceiling that they watched, their breath slowing in the silence. 

Ragnar closed his eyes and relaxed as he felt Athelstan's weight shift on the bed, his hand draping over his waist. Ragnar returned the gesture, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head as they fell asleep in one another's arms.


End file.
